


That's Me In The Spotlight (An Epilogue)

by NerdyLisa



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Begging, Comeplay, Fluff, Husbands, M/M, Religion, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22653319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyLisa/pseuds/NerdyLisa
Summary: It's been ten years since the Modern Missionary...
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	That's Me In The Spotlight (An Epilogue)

**Author's Note:**

> Original fic was written by Burncitybelle. I love her and this fanfic so much that I translated it to Russian and wrote an epilogue because her story wasn't finished. I translated the epilogue to English for Nikki (@lwtnikki) and Meera (@nostrilsnice). They're great and you should totally follow them.
> 
> I'M SO SORRY FOR ALL OF MY MISTAKES!

Louis crossed his legs and looked at the guy in front of him for the hundredth time. He was about nineteen years old. He was short, fair-haired and his left eye was slightly squinted, but it was not particularly noticeable. He was wearing a beige Armani sweater and dark jeans that Louis couldn't recognize, which meant that it was probably a brand that made teenage clothes. So naturally, Louis winced and looked at the guy’s face.

The guy spoke passionately about how much he was interested in the fashion industry, how long he had wanted to be a part of it, and, of course, how long he admired Louis and everything he did. Louis ignored it all. About fifty applicants for the position of his assistant had already passed through him, and all of them said almost the same things: how much they admired him and his work. The first three times it brought a smile to his face, but after that he just waved his hand to skip the compliments and get to the point.

Louis didn’t need an assistant. He didn’t want an assistant. He didn’t need anyone to get in the way of him, asking him a hundred stupid questions. He always handled everything himself and he didn’t want it to change. But he and Harry had been talking about it so often lately that he had dreams about it and he knew it was time to follow his own advices. They had to make a compromise. A compromise. He would hire an assistant and Harry would talk to his manager, who would rearrange his tour schedule.

Ten years ago, Louis decided to stop exhausting himself with work, putting his career in the second place. And he did, and for a while it was like that, but when Harry signed his first contract and went to New York − alone for the first time, without Louis – he, without thinking twice, plunged back into work.And now he was forty-two, his career was at its peak, he was earning the amount of money that he had never dreamed of before, and he saw his husband only a few hours a week, If they were lucky.

Louis closed his eyes, trying to remember the last time he went out with Harry. Yeah, the last time was when they flew to LA for a Fleetwood Mac gig. Harry, who used to hate “old stuff”, was listening to vintage music now. With the first money earned from music, he bought a vinyl record player and their vinyl collection was constantly growing now. Harry was bringing records from all over the world to their London apartment. Louis smiled to himself at the thought of seeing his boy today.

His pleasant thoughts were interrupted by a guy’s cough who kept talking about Burberry’s spring designs. Louis shook his head and looked at his watch.

“Well, thank you for coming. We will call you,” Louis said, his head buried in the sketches on the table in front of him.

When the guy heard this, he immediately tempered his enthusiasm and lowered his head down. It was obvious that it wasn’t the first time he had heard something like this. He got up from the chair and went to the exit of Louis’ office.

Louis immediately noticed his strange gait. He looked down and smiled to himself.

“Hey, wait,” he said, resting his chin on his hand. “What did you say your name was?”

The guy turned around, already holding the door handle. “It’s Eric.”

“All right, Eric, leave me your number and I’ll call you when I need you.”

The guy brightened instantly and jumped to Louis’ desk, writing down the digits on a piece of paper. When he finished, he looked up gratefully at Louis.

“Thank you, Louis. It was my dream to work with you.”

“ _Oui, oui_ ,” Louis urged, looking at his watch again. “Now leave before I change my mind.”

Eric nodded and walked quickly out of the office, carefully closing the door.

Louis sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was pleased that he had finally solved the problem with the assistant. He wanted to tell Harry about it as soon as possible, but Harry hadn’t arrived to London yet, and Louis was getting tired of talking him on the phone, he wanted to see him in front of himself. He wanted to touch his boy.

He looked up at his watch again. There was only half an hour left until the end of the day. He had every right to leave, because he had done all the work in the morning, but old habits die hard. Louis got up from the chair and went to the big window. His office was spacious and there was plenty of light so that he could get a good look at the colors of the fabrics and their combinations. Most of the office was occupied by a huge working table, where pieces of fabric were laid out.

It was surprisingly clear outside the window. Spring in London was usually accompanied by rain, but today it was dry and Louis was glad because of it. They had lived in Melbourne for a long time before moving to London, so they were used to the warm, dry weather. But despite the weather, they both liked London better than any other city they had ever lived in.

Louis checked the time again. His working day came to an end, so he took his coat off the hanger, turned off the light in his office and closed the door behind him.

As soon as he said goodbye to the receptionist and opened the front door to the Gucci’s head office, he was almost blown away by a gust of wind. Louis pulled his coat tighter around him and went outside. He had to run to his car because the wind was really strong. When he got into his Bentley, he turned the rearview mirror and adjusted his wind-damaged hair.

“ _Oh, fais chier_ ,” Louis muttered, ruffling his gray-streaked fringe. He refused to dye his hair on principle, although almost everyone in the industry did, trying to prolong the outward signs of youth. He was proud of his age as well as his achievements; he wore his gray hair like an athlete wears an Olympic medal – with pride.

Louis started the engine of his car and pressed the gas pedal. It was almost dark outside and he decided to reschedule some work he wanted to do today to another day. He decided to drop by a bakery in Regent Street instead, because he really wanted some calissons and it was the only store that had them in stock.  
He slowed down at a traffic light and looked left. There was a boy walking down the sidewalk, around sixteen years old, with dark curly hair and huge neon headphones. He was singing to himself, ignoring the passers-by. Childlike immediacy. Louis exhaled joyfully, his mind went back ten years.

After Harry had given him a fantastic blowjob, he left their suite and returned only a few hours later, tearful and happy. He never made it to a church that night. Almost as soon as he left the hotel, a group of fans spotted him, followed by paparazzi. He walked several blocks with this entourage until he finally noticed a shop with a rainbow on the display. Harry stood at the entrance, waiting for the paparazzi to circle him. He wanted the shots to be as clear as possible, so that no one would have any questions, he wanted it to look obvious. He took a deep breath and stepped inside the shop.

Louis couldn’t remember what happened next, but the very next day the photos of Harry were printed on the front page of The New York Times. It was exciting, though Louis knew it only seemed exciting now, but back then it was thrilling and scared the hell out of both of them. But they handled it like they always did. Together. When Harry saw a headline of the newspaper, he immediately called his uncle Paul and spent about half an hour talking to him and Michael on speaker, sitting on the hotel bathroom’s floor. Louis had lost count of how many times the boy apologized for lying to his uncles about their relationship. Paul forgave him almost immediately, but Michael only did so in person, because he couldn’t bear the boy’s tears. Louis could relate.

Harry of course had been kicked out of the show immediately. Jeremy called them and shouted for so long so they put Harry’s phone on the coffee table, sat on the sofa and just waited for a few minutes while holding hands. When he was done shouting, he told the boy that he had violated some stupid article in his contract and he had the right to fire him right there and then. Harry didn’t protest. For some reason neither he nor Louis could understand, Jeremy didn’t take the money the boy had earned on the Modern Missionary, although the sum was considerable. But the boy never saw his money nevertheless.

After the talk with Jeremy, Harry said that he wanted to finally tell the truth to his parents, but he didn’t know how to do it, so they decided to visit his uncles first.

After Paul’s boyfriend forgave Harry and both of the boy’s uncles met Louis, they all sat down at the dining table together and discussed Harry’s upcoming conversation with his parents. Paul immediately told his nephew that he was a bad adviser because he had to hide his sexuality for many years, knowing that otherwise he would lose a part of his family. He warned Harry that there was a fat chance that this conversation would end badly and that Harry should prepare for the worst. Michael, on the other hand, believed that even though Harry's parents were homophobic, they still were his parents, his closest people. He reminded him that Robin called Harry ten times a day, although he usually didn’t, and that he called Louis even though everyone knew how much he hated his very name.

In the end, they all agreed that Harry should come home and tell his parents about everything, but he should be as delicate as possible and in no case should he mention Louis’s name.

The next day they were in Texas, Louis was staying at a motel near Harry’s family neighborhood, and at noon Harry knocked on the front door of his house.

The memory of the following events still broke Louis’ heart.

Robin rejected his son before he managed to finish the word “gay”, saying that he didn’t want to ever see him again, that he was a disgrace to their family and that Harry’s name would be banned in their house from now on. As he screamed and sputtered, Harry’s mother stood against the wall, pale as a shadow, tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn’t say anything, didn’t object when his father told Harry to get out of the house, she just went up to his room to help him pack his bags. Harry didn’t try to talk to her; he thought it would be pointless at that moment. He wouldn't have been able to talk to her anyway because he was choking back tears. When he came to the motel where Louis was waiting on him, he couldn’t sleep: he cried at first, then he made Louis cum on literally every part of his body and then he got hysterical and he was like that until the early morning. When Harry repeated Robin’s words to Louis, the older man wanted to take off and go straight to Harry's house.

He wanted to destroy it for everything his boy had to go through. But Harry kept him from doing it.

His father had called him in the afternoon to tell that the money Harry had earned from the Modern Missionary would remain in the family’s bank account and when Louis promised him to hire the best lawyers in the country to sue his father, the boy asked him not to do it. Louis looked into his young lover’s face and his tired, sad eyes spoke for themselves.

When Harry called Paul, telling him everything that had happened, there was a stunned silence on the phone. A few hours later, Paul called Harry’s parents and told them that he and Michael were going to get married in Paris and they’re inviting them to their wedding. Both Paul and Robin knew that call was not an invitation. It was Paul telling Robin that he would look after Harry from now on, that his son would not be left alone, without his family’s love and care. Robin hung up almost immediately.

While Louis was thinking about all of this, he drove up to the bakery. It was quite dark now and the street was flooded with neon. He got out of the car, turning up the collar of his coat, shielding himself from the strong wind. When he reached the bakery, he got in line and looked around. There were quite a few people in front of him and Louis looked at his wristwatch, nodding to himself because he had plenty of time. He allowed his mind to go back in time again.

Ultimately, they did what Harry suggested they do the night after Zayn's party. They left the show and ran away together.

Louis accepted Pucci’s offer almost immediately after the conversation with Harry’s parents. He called Jeremy, saying that he couldn’t continue working for the Modern Missionary because of the health issues, and it was evident that Jeremy didn’t believe a word he said. Good thing Louis didn’t care what Jeremy thought.

He and Harry moved to Italy. They needed a written permission of one of the boy’s parents and his mother helped them by signing the paper behind her husband’s back.

They had lived in Milan for a year and a half. At first, Harry was very quiet – a separation from the parents didn’t allow him to enjoy his new life. Louis couldn’t stop blaming himself, thinking that Harry might be happy if Louis wouldn’t appear in his life. But one day they were sitting on the porch of their rented house together and Harry got a call. It was Gemma and she wanted to know how her brother was doing.

Later, Harry told Louis that she was very reserved while talking to him, as if she didn’t know him at all, but she _had_ called him and this mere fact made Harry happy. The girl said she had found the books he left at home. Robin threw them out, but she took them out of the trash and read them all. A couple of months later, he and Gemma were on Skype almost every day, Harry was no longer depressed and Louis was finally able to breathe again.

Fortunately, Harry didn’t really care that he’d lost most of his Texas friends. All of them turned their backs on him when the rainbow photos came out. Louis reassured him by telling that those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter – don’t mind. He didn’t specify that it was Dr. Seuss’ quote.

Robin and Harry’s relationship never got better. Ten years passed but he never even called his son. Ann would call him occasionally: on his birthday, on Christmas and other holidays. Harry never called her himself, he was afraid that Robin would pick up his call.

Another unexpected problem they had to deal with was money. At first, Harry kept everything to himself, but after a couple of months of living in Italy, he broke down and told Louis that he couldn’t live at his expense. Louis, of course, waved him off, saying it was nonsense, but Harry didn’t let it go that easily. He became fidgety and didn’t calm down until he found a guitar lessons in Milan. They were led by an old Italian man who spoke English fluently. Harry was immensely pleased.

They celebrated their first Christmas in Milan and Harry turned seventeen there. The boy wanted to spend his birthday in bed. That night they used toys during sex for the first time.  
Louis felt his cock twitch in his pants at the thought. He looked around but no one paid any attention to him.

Harry signed his first music contract at twenty. Unexpectedly, it was Joni who helped them with this, Louis kept in touch with her the whole time. She introduced Harry to the New York producer. Louis jokingly called her his fairy godmother, because Louis ended up in the US and met Harry thanks to her.

At first, the boy performed songs by different songwriters and the music he made was quite mediocre, but it still helped him get some fans. A few years later, Harry was writing his own songs and even selling them to other artists. He started making really good music which Louis would listen unironically. When Harry turned twenty-five the amount of money on their bank accounts became even. Louis had never been more proud of anyone more than he was of his boy.

Then it was Louis’ time to order and he bought a large packet of calissons, when his eyes fell upon the small caramelized pastry and he asked the vendor to wrap up a few of them for him.

After leaving the bakery, he ran to his car, quickly getting inside and slammed the door behind him. He rubbed his hands, breathing on them, trying to warm them.  
It took him only twenty minutes to get home, he was lucky not to get caught in a heavy traffic. He parked his car in the underground parking lot and got out of the car, almost forgetting to take the bag from the bakery, which drove him crazy with it’s delicious smell all the way home.

He took an elevator to get to his floor and fumbled in his pocket for the keys, but the front door had suddenly opened on its own. Harry wasn’t supposed to be home yet, so he poked his head cautiously through the doorway, scanning the hallway of their apartment. Louis quietly opened the door, slipping into the flat. The lights were off in the hall, so he slowly kicked off his shoes and hung his coat on a hook. He went to the kitchen, which was right next to the entrance hall, and put the bag from the bakery on the table. Then he turned and walked quietly into the living room. That’s where he found him.

Harry was sitting in an armchair by the electric fireplace. He rested his forehead against the chair, his arms around a sofa cushion, his mouth slightly open and he looked like an angel. Louis walked slowly to the chair where his boy was sleeping. He crouched down, looking at his pretty face. Harry had stopped cutting his hair when he was twenty and as soon as it reached his shoulders, turning into beautiful long locks, Louis forbade him to cut it. One day, Harry came to him and said that he wanted to cut and donate it. So naturally Louis slapped his ass and said that he would do it only over his dead body.

Zayn once told him that Harry would grow up and lose something special which made Louis like him so much, that he would lose the thrill of his age would be lost. Thus words were prophetic. The thrill, indeed, was lost, but their love was thriving.

The “man/boy” tendency in their relationship continued and it seemed to suit both of them. Harry liked to feel taken care of by the older man and after ten year relationship he still loved to climb on his lap even though he was twice as big and heavy as he was. Occasionally though they changed roles and in there rare moments Harry would wrap Louis in tenderness and affection.

Harry stirred in his sleep, pulling the pillow closer to him. Louis couldn’t wait any longer, so he stroked his cheek lovingly. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, then slowly opened them, smiling broadly when he saw Louis in front of him.

“ _Coucou_ ,” he said sleepily, putting the pillow aside and pulling the man toward him by his forearms.

Louis climbed into his lap, putting an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “ _Bonjour, mon petit_ ,” Louis said, placing his hand on his cheek to kiss him on the lips. The kiss was slow and deep, both men had missed each other terribly and wanted to be as close as possible.

“When did you come?” Louis asked when they were finally able to separate from each other.

Harry pulled his phone from the pocket and checked the time. “Forty minutes ago,” he leaned over and kissed Louis on the lips and then he kissed his cheek and forehead. “I wanted to wait for you here, but the jetlag knocked me out the second I sat on the chair.” He kissed Louis on the cheek again.

The man basked in the rays of love and affection emanating from his husband. The had been together for ten years, but the thrill of falling in love hadn't fade one iota.

” _Tu m'as manqué, mon amour_ ,” Louis whispered, covering Harry’s face with kisses.

«Félicité says hello,” Harry said in the same low voice, kissing his husband back. “She managed to come to my Rockstore performance after all.”

Louis smiled at the mention of his sister’s name. Due to the loss of support from Harry’s closest relatives, the boy had lost a family hearth, so after the contract with Pucci had expired, Louis took Harry to his home village and introduced him to his parents who accepted him almost like their own son. None of them seemed to bother by Harry’s young age and Louis felt at peace. His sisters and a brother also came to love with the boy, especially Félicité who immediately grabbed Harry’s hand and locked them in her bedroom. His boy came out half an hour later, happy as a clam, and didn’t say a word about a conversation with his sister. Since then there was a special bond between them.

“That’s wonderful, _mon petit_ ,” Louis said , smoothing Harry’s silk shirt. “Zayn called me this morning, he and Perry will be in London for the weekend and I invited them to stay at ours.”

Harry’s lips twitched lightly. A stranger wouldn’t even notice this little twitch, but Louis knew his husband well and he knew what this tiny action meant.

They became quite close to Zayn and Perry after everything that had happened due to a breaking of the contract with the Modern Missionary. Almost immediately after that, Demarchelier came into the picture, trying to put a spoke in their wheel by meeting with Laudomia Pucci and starting some completely ridiculous dirty rumor about Louis. That time Zayn provided him invaluable assistance by signing a contract with Pucci for a whole season. Laudomia always doted on Zayn and a few words from him were enough to make the head of the fashion house forget about any stupid rumor.

They often had a double dates with Zayn and Perry. Harry was very jealous at first, but one time Louis fucked the younger man so hard that he forgot about jealousy once and for all. At least that’s what he thought. He wasn’t so sure now. However, Louis never gave Harry any reasons to be jealous. Louis never looked at another man, and no other man existed for him.

“Wonderful,” Harry repeated, nuzzling Louis’ temple.

“I brought you something,” Louis whispered.

“Mmm?” Harry hummed cheerfully with wide opened eyes. Time went on, but still he was the same sixteen-year-old boy that Louis had foolishly fallen in love with.

The man got to his feet and pulled his husband's hand. Harry rose and followed him obediently. His white silk shirt hung loosely over his shoulders and he looked so tempting that Louis had to bite his lip to keep himself from attacking him right there and then.

Life in Milan affected Harry’s style extraordinary – he became fond of beautiful clothes. It all started with the tight-fitting Saint Laurent suits that made Louis drool at the sight of his beautiful boy every time they went out. Then Saint Laurent was replaced by colorful costumes in which Harry looked just incredible. These days Harry was literally living in Gucci. He signed a contract with the fashion house and became its official representative. Once again, Louis felt a surge of pride as he thought about how much his boy had achieved since the day they met.

When they met, Harry was a sheltered Texas teenager who couldn’t keep his mouth shut or live a day without some homophobic remarks that often sounded completely ridiculous. And Louis kept giving him another chance again and again, because… it was Harry, he couldn’t explain it any other way. Now Harry was donating huge sums to various LGBT organizations that helped people all over the world regularly. And few months ago they were sitting on the balcony bickering about something stupid and Louis said something that made Harry snort sarcastically and explain to him that the thing he said was actually an internalized homophobia. Louis had no idea what that meant.

They walked into the kitchen together and Louis set Harry down at the desk, taking pastry out of the bag. Harry rubbed his hands together contentedly and pinched Louis bum. The man jumped in surprise and waved his hand away.

“If you don’t behave, you will get nothing,” he said sternly.

“Okay, I won’t do it again,” Harry replied, holding up his hands in surrender.

Louis took a dessert plate and teaspoon out of the cupboard and placed them in front of Harry, and then he placed a small French pastry on the plate.

“Oh,” Harry exclaimed in surprised, looking at the dessert in front of him. It seemed like he remembered something as he smiled broadly. “It’s a canelé.”

“ _Oui_ ,” Louis said, sitting down beside him.

Harry picked up a teaspoon and dipped it into the dessert, tasting something familiar. “Mmm,” he groaned in pleasure.

“Do you remember?” Louis asked, stroking his husband’s knee.

“Yes,” Harry replied immediately, covering Louis’ hand with his own. “I remember.”

They sat there for a while, Harry was eating his canelé slowly while Louis was watching him, his eyes full of adoration.

“Do you remember the blanket forts?” the younger man asked suddenly, placing a spoon on the edge of his plate.

Louis smiled even more broadly and brought Harry’s hand to his lips, kissing it. “ _Oui_.”

They looked at each other in complete silence of their kitchen, they weren’t searching for something particular in each other’s eyes, they had known everything for a long time. Louis kissed Harry’s hand again, then he pressed it to his cheek.

“ _Je t'aime, mon beau mari_ ,” Harry said softly, pulling the older man into his arms and kissing him on the lips. Louis let out a stifled moan when Harry’s tongue slid in his mouth. “ _Je te veux_.”

Louis quickly put his hand down and pressed it to his husband’s crotch. Harry was already hard in his trousers and the heat radiating from his bulge could be felt even through the fabric. He groaned hoarsely as Louis squeezed his cock through his trousers.

“Take me,” the younger man whined, pressing Louis’ hand to his cock with his both hands.

“Fuck. _Oui… Oui!_ ” Louis got up from the table and walked backwards towards their bedroom, leading Harry by his hand. His husband’s lovely long hair was disheveled, his pupils were dilated and he was already touching himself. His boy was so impatient, sometimes Louis had to cuff his hands to the headboard so he wouldn’t start stroking himself without permission.

Louis pushed Harry onto the bed and he fell back, legs wide apart. The man assessed the view in front of him. The silk shirt fell open on Harry’s chest, revealing his nipples and tattoos. Louis climbed onto the bed, placing his knees on either side of Harry’s thighs. He began slowly undoing the buttons on his boy’s shirt.

“I want you to get on all fours and stretch your little hole for me,” Louis whispered, pulling Harry’s short off him. He stood up and carefully hung it over the chair while Harry was removing his trousers, socks and underwear awkwardly. When Louis turned , his husband was on all fours in the middle of their huge white bed. Louis opened a small drawer in the nightstand and took out the bottle of lube, dropping it on the bed in front of Harry. The younger man picked it up and squeezed some of it on his fingers. Louis walked around the bed, standing at the foot of it so as not to miss the upcoming performance.

Harry put his and down, touching his tight pink ring of muscle with slicked fingers. Louis licked his lips and began to undress, not taking his eyes off the tempting sight in front of him once. Harry spread his legs even wider, still running his fingers over the skin around his hole, teasing both himself and his husband.

“ _Insérez_ ,” Louis commanded, taking his cock in his hand and stroking it a few times.

Harry whimpered and slowly pressed his middle finger inside his hole. He whined, spreading his legs as wide as possible. A cock between his legs was so hard that it touched his stomach, the head was bright pink and it was leaking from the tip, the precome was slowly dripping on the sheet. Louis began to stroke himself faster.

Harry pushed two fingers inside and his legs trembled as he began to move his hips. “ _Prends-moi, s'il te plait_ ,” the younger man whined, fucking himself with his fingers. Harry knew how much Louis loved when he begged. So he pressed: “ _Prends-moi, s'il te plait_.”

Louis growled softly and climbed onto the bed, hovering over his husband. He pushed Harry’s hand away and put his palms on his butt cheeks, squeezing them so hard that the man under him squeaked. He raised his right hand over Harry’s ass and slapped it. It was fast and harsh and the Harry fell on the mattress with a cry. Louis grabbed him by the hips and pulled him up to get back on all fours. Harry was very obedient, moaning softly in pain and excitement.

“You want my dick?” Louis asked with steel in his voice.

Harry started nodding quickly, resting his head on the pillow and arching his back so hard, Louis had to bite his lip. No matter how much time had passed, he couldn’t get used to the sight. His boy was so beautiful, he always gave himself so easily and he was ready to do whatever Louis wanted him to.

Louis raised his left hand and slapped Harry’s other cheek loudly. Harry stiffened at first, but then he relaxed again and began to wiggle his ass, trying to get Louis to touch him.

“You would do anything for me to get it inside, wouldn’t you, _mon petit?_ ” Louis asked, stroking his boy’s flushed bum.

“ _Oui_ ,” Harry said breathlessly, still wiggling his ass. “Please, Lou.”

Louis leaned over him and pressed a red tip of his cock to Harry’s hole. The younger man froze, waiting for Louis to finally enter him. But Louis didn’t want to give up that easily. He began to ran the head of his cock up and down over Harry’s puckerish hole. Harry whined, trying to push back against Louis’ cock to get it inside of him. But Louis pulled away immediately.

“ _S'il te plait_ ,” Harry muttered desperately. “ _S'il te plait... S'il te plait_.” At some point his pleas turned into some kind of prayer. He kept repeating the same words over and over again, moving his hips and trying to get Louis’ cock.

Louis decided to escalate Harry’s torment by penetrating him slowly with the tip of his cock just to pull out all at once, and continue teasing his hole. Every time he did this, Harry would exhale in relief at first and then he whimpered in exasperation, trying to feel his husband’s dick with his ass.

“ _S'il te plait, Louis_ ,” he repeated. There were tears in his voice. “ _S'il te plait, baise-moi_.” Harry actually sniffed as he said it, so Louis decided that he had enough.

He picked up the lube and squeezed it right onto his cock, smearing it all over himself with his left hand. Then he brought his lubed hand to Harry’s back and ran it from his tailbone to his neck. Louis loved making his boy dirty, making a mess out of him, he liked it when his boy’s hair got disheveled and stuck to his sweaty forehead, he liked it when he got all slick with lube, when his mouth was smeared with saliva after giving Louis a blowjob, when tears flowed down his cheeks.

Louis pressed his cock to Harry’s rim and abruptly entered him, holding him firmly by the hips. He held Harry so tightly that the younger man arched his back like a bristling cat and buried his forehead in a pillow, breathing heavily.

“Like this?” Louis asked, leaning down to see his husband’s face. “Is this what you wanted?”

Harry quickly nodded again, brushing his hair back from his face and arching his back again. “Yeah.”

Louis slowly pulled his cock almost all the way out just to thrust back in. Harry let out a whiny moan after each thrust of Louis’ thighs. All the words were stuck in his throat and he could only make sounds. At one point, he just held a pillow between his teeth and started growling like a wounded animal.

Louis continued to slowly pulling out and abruptly pulling in, running his hands over his boy’s thighs, squeezing his balls, causing Harry to clench his toes. Still, it wasn’t enough. Louis was familiar with the feeling. He took Harry’s virginity, he put a wedding ring oh his finger and gave him his last name, he completely and unconditionally owned him, and at that exact moment he was literally inside of him, but it was still not enough, not enough, not enough. He wanted to get inside of him completely, wanted to absorb him – become one, but it was impossible. So Louis put his hands on Harry’s shoulders and began fucking into him like a wild animal, shouting: “ _Tu es à moi! Tu es à moi!_ ”

Harry nodded like a mad and moaned so loud that Louis could hardly hear his own voice.

“Say it! Tell me!” he told him through his gritted teeth.

“ _Je suis à toi!_ ” Harry exclaimed through moans, lowering his head, so that his hair was fully covering his face. Louis didn't like it, so he gathered it with both hands, continuing to move his hips. Harry turned his head and looked at Louis with pleading eyes. Louis immediately understood what he wanted him to do as he wrapped Harry’s hair around his fist and pulled it. Harry screamed and grabbed his cock, starting to jerk off like crazy. Louis slapped his hand and Harry whined, putting his hand back on the mattress. “I’m gonna come. Please…”

Louis got to his feet, still fucking Harry hard and deep, knees on either side of his thighs. He kept his balance shoving Harry’s shoulder to the mattress with one hand and pressing his face into the pillow with the other, Harry’s hair was still wrapped around it. Louis always managed to hit his husband’s prostate with his cock in this position and as soon as he found it, he pressed his cock against it. Harry shuddered all over and squeezed the sheet into his fists.

“Come on,” Louis growled, he sounded as if he was angry. “Take it! Take my cock!”

Harry moved his hips obediently, meeting Louis’ thrusts halfway. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he bit his lower lip till it bled.

“I want you to come on it. Come on, baby,” Louis said, pressing harder on Harry’s shoulder.

At that instant Harry froze completely and after a few seconds Louis felt the most wonderful feeling in the universe. Harry began to come and his warm walls clenched around Louis’ cock, pulsing and sending hot waves of pleasure all over Louis’ body. He moved his hips a couple more times and quickly pulled out, turning Harry on his back roughly. The younger man hadn’t had time to recover his senses so he was slow to react to Louis’ actions.

Louis hovered over Harry’s body and stroked his cock once, twice, three times and started coming on his boy’s young body. White threads of cum covered Harry’s stomach and chest and when Louis had squeezed every last drop of his cum out, he sat on his boy’s torso, placing his hands on Harry’s chest and smearing his cum all over Harry’s upper body. He smeared it on his stomach and chest, going up to his neck to push his wet fingers into Harry’s open mouth and smearing his cum on his lips. Harry grunted and closed his eyes.

“ _Je t'aime_ ,” Louis said softly, when he felt satisfied with the work he’s done.

“I love you too,” Harry replied, opening his eyes and smiling to Louis.

Louis lay back on the pillow next to his husband, he took his chin in his small hand and turned his face to have a look at him in the darkness of their bedroom. “You are all I want and so much more,” he said, kissing him on the lips.

“I wrote a little something,” Harry told him. And, well, Louis knew what it meant. It meant that his husband had written a new song and Louis had something to do with it.

“Well,” Louis chuckled, brushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead. “I’m not particularly busy right now.”

Harry smiled and got up from the bed to pick up his guitar from the stand. He went back to the bed and sat down, tucking his leg under himself. “I wrote it like a week ago so it’s still too raw, but-“

“Sing, _mon petit_ ,” Louis interrupted and lay down on his side, leaning his head on his hand.

Harry cleared his throat and ran his fingers over the strings of his favorite purple guitar. He frowned and his face set in a serious expression.

“ _My lover's got humor_  
_He's the giggle at a funeral_  
_Knows everybody's disapproval_  
_I should've worshipped him sooner_.”

As Harry sang, Louis’ cum dried on his body and Louis couldn’t take his eyes off his boy’s glistening chest. The long brown curls fell over Harry’s back and chest. The tips of his hair were also smeared with semen and glued to Harry’s neck and shoulders.

“ _If the heavens ever did speak_  
_He's the last true mouthpiece_  
_Every Sunday's gettin' more bleak_  
_A fresh poison each week_  
_We were born sick_  
_You heard them say it_

 _My church offers no absolutes_  
_She tells me, worship in the bedroom_  
_The only heaven I'll be sent to_  
_Is when I'm alone with you_  
_I was born sick, but I love it_  
_Command me to be well_  
_A-amen, amen, amen_.”

Nobody had to explain Louis what Harry was singing about, he understood every word, he felt the pain of his lover. He saw it in his face.

“ _Take me to church!_  
_I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies_  
_I'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife_  
_Offer me that deathless death_  
_Oh, good God, let me give you my life!_

_If I'm a pagan of the good times_  
_My lover's the sunlight_  
_Keep the Goddess on my side_  
_She demands a sacrifice_  
_To drain the whole sea_  
_Get something shiny_

_Something meaty for the main course_  
_That's a fine looking high horse_  
_What you got in the stable?_  
_We've a lot of starving faithful_  
_That looks tasty_  
_That looks plenty_  
_This is hungry work_

_Take me to church!_  
_I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies_  
_I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife_  
_Offer me that deathless death_  
_Oh, good God, let me give you my life!_

 _No masters or kings when the ritual begins_  
_There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin_.”

Louis noticed tears in the corners of Harry’s eyes and felt that he was on the edge of crying too. During the years they’ve spent together, Harry’s faith underwent a lot of metamorphoses to the point that he decided to stop attending the church. Louis knew that it was a very sensitive subject and he never brought that topic up himself. The fact that Harry wrote that song meant a lot.

“ _In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene_  
_Only then I am human_  
_Only then I am clean_.”

Harry finished his song, put his guitar on the pillow and pressed the heels of his hands to the corners of his eyes to stop the tears from spilling. Louis crawled across the bed and pulled him into his arms, rocking his boy like a small baby.

Louis’ faith also had changed, he was no longer as categorical and sarcastic as before. As he grew older, the spirit of protest died down; Now, he wanted to _understand_. And he made an effort to do so.

“Hey, _mon petit_ ,” he said softly, kissing the top of Harry’s head. “I just remembered something else.” He hold up the younger’s man face by the chin to look at him. “Do you remember that rainy day when you were still working at the Modern Missionary? You were only sixteen. And you were sad because we couldn’t kiss on the street.” Harry frowned slightly, trying to recall this memory.

“Remember?” Harry nodded. “So I promised you that one day you would be able to kiss me. I told you I would take you somewhere far, far away where we could kiss in broad daylight. Remember?”

Harry nodded again and smiled, knowing what Louis meant by it. “ _Merci_.”

“ _Non merci_ ,” Louis replied, stroking his hair. “ _C'est moi qui doit vous dire merci_.”

Twenty minutes later, when they had showered, changed the sheets and finally finished Harry’s canelé, Louis pulled his boy in a hug in their big soft bed. They were both tired and sleepy as they lay in the dark of the spacious bedroom. Harry lay on his side with Louis’ head on his chest, while Louis were tracing meaningless patterns on his lover’s back with the tip of his finger.

“By the way,” Louis said all of a sudden. “I have an assistant now, so you can stop pushing me about it,” he said with a smile on his face.

“Oh,” Harry said, surprised. Louis hadn’t been able to make a choice for months, so his surprise was genuine. “What’s their name?”

“Eric.”

“And… Why did you choose them?” Harry asked curiously.

Louis intertwined their hands and stared at the ceiling.

“I could say something like… like I saw a spark in his eyes and realized that he was perfect for this job-“

“A spark of passion?” Harry put in.

“Yes, yes,” Louis chuckled.

"But for real?”

"Well, he was wearing Stefano Bemer shoes." Harry nodded understandingly. "And his feet literally floated in them, they were at least three sizes too big."

Harry laughed, squeezing his husband's hand. "Yeah, he's perfect."

Louis hummed and kissed Harry on the lips. A few minutes later they were fast asleep in each other's warm arms.


End file.
